


I Haven't Told You Everything

by flannelfogarty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Depression, Guilt, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, M/M, Recovery, referenced pre-stanford era, referenced stanford era, sam dealing with depression, sam overcoming depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 03:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5441606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfogarty/pseuds/flannelfogarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were sitting in the Impala. It was about ten o'clock at night and they were surrounded with nothing but open road for miles, stars bright like beacons hanging above their heads. Dean was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Sam was leaning against the door, feigning nonchalance as he confessed his deepest, darkest secrets to his brother.</p><p>Set after Ruby's betrayal at the end of Season 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Haven't Told You Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and heed the tags. Nothing is explicit and all talk of self-harm is only referencing the past.   
> Work is not edited by anyone other than myself, so if you spot mistakes please let me know!  
> Also posted on my tumblr (brotherlywinchesters). Feel free to follow!  
> Comments are much appreciated.

They were sitting in the Impala. It was about ten o’clock at night and they were surrounded with nothing but open road for miles, stars bright like beacons hanging above their heads. Dean was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Sam was leaning against the door, feigning nonchalance as he confessed his deepest, darkest secrets to his brother. 

This shit with Ruby almost ended the brothers bond forever. Sam couldn’t let it happen, couldn’t let Dean go without him knowing everything. He had just told Dean about his battle with depression and self-harm. Told him about how he used self-harm as a way to gain control over something, anything really, in his life. 

He explained how he almost slipped back into that after Dean went to Hell because Dean was… Well, Dean was his anchor. He felt like his world was tipping once Dean was taken, like he was losing control again and the only way he could get it back was to take it from himself. He explained that Ruby was there and she stopped him from slicing the blade across his skin with her small hand. She told Sam she could give him control, if he wanted it. 

Sam went on to explain what that first drop of blood did for him. How it gave him all that control he thought he lost back again. It gave him a sick sense of hope. Maybe he wasn’t as dirtytwistedfuckedup as he thought. Maybe he had a purpose after all. Maybe he could kill demons with his mind, his powers, to save his big brother- the only person who ever really mattered in Sam’s world. 

Dean had to pull over. He couldn’t drive while listening to Sam anymore. He wanted to vomit, expel all the wretched feelings brewing inside himself. The guilt that wanted to claw it’s way out of his chest. By this time, Dean was struggling to breathe, on the verge of pure panic, when Sam touched his hand to Dean’s arm bringing him back into the moment.

“I’m okay now, Dean. I’m here, I’m okay. Ruby is gone, I’m here.”

Sam’s soothing words helped calm him slightly, gave him enough clarity to be able to push the anxiety away, stow the guilt somewhere deep inside, swallow the bile that was working it’s way up his throat. His breathing calmed. He nodded to his brother to keep going.

“I still haven’t told you everything, De. About before. before I even left for Stanford. You sure you want me to keep going?” Sam asked. “You have to be sure. I won’t be able to stop once the words start so please, please be sure.”

“Jesus, Sam. Just tell me,” Dean responded in his typical gruff way when trying to hide his emotions behind his attitude.

Sam inhaled deeply to steel himself before turning to look straight at Dean. “I left for Stanford because I wanted to give myself a chance at a normal life, but you know that already, right?” Dean nodded, so Sam continued. “That’s not the only reason,” Sam fidgeted a little to keep his hands from visibly shaking. “I left because I wanted to give myself a chance. I thought maybe the space would help clear my head, help me reign in my feelings, you know?”

Dean looked genuinely confused at this point. “What? What are you talking about Sammy?” He asked in hopes of breaking whatever strange cycle Sam was talking in, hoping he’d just get to the point already. It couldn’t be worse than Dean’s own demons, but he didn’t want to take anything away from Sam. This was so obviously important, him sharing this. 

Sam sighed and just let it out. “Dean, I’ve been in love with you since I can remember. I’ve wanted you since I was fourteen and knew what wanting someone meant. I’ve been fucked up about it since then too, and yeah, I’m sure in some psychological way my feelings for you had something to do with me self-harming in the first place. But you needed to know. I needed you to know.” By the time he was finished, his eyes were closed and there were visible tear tracks down his cheeks.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t know a lot about the rest of what Sam had told him that night, about the self-harm and the depression, but he did know Sammy. He knew that this was a major major thing, for Sam to tell him this, and if he didn’t handle it right, he could lose him forever. 

Dean lifted his hands to Sam’s face and wiped the tears away gently. Sam’s eyes were still closed, so Dean brushed over them as well while murmuring softly, “It’s okay, Sam. We’re okay. Open your eyes, please.”   
Sam let out a sob at his brother’s words, obviously not expecting them. “B-but Dean…” Dean shushed him while he continued soothingly stroking Sam’s face. More sobs wracked Sam’s body as he let himself go, let himself be cared for by the only person who has ever loved him enough to do so. 

Dean let his brother release all the tears, all the pent up emotion he’d been holding in. He moved his hands from Sam’s face down his arms, across his back, effectively pulling him into a position where Dean could easily hold him close, tight, like he was absolutely never letting go. 

Eventually, the sobbing and the shaking slowed, and Sam was able to hear Dean softly humming Hey Jude, which never failed to make him smile even the smallest of smiles. Now that he felt a little more calm and a little more collected, he sat up and looked right at Dean. 

“I’m sure you have questions, and I’d like to keep talking if that’s okay. It helps,” he said.

Dean nodded, and when Sam looked at him expectantly, he figured it was his turn to talk. “How did you hide your depression and self-harming so well?” 

“Of all the things I just told you, I honestly didn’t think that was the one you were going to bring up first,” Sam laughed a little at the situation, knowing that if he didn’t let himself find the humor in their situation he would lose it again “Well, the depression has been something I’ve lived with for as long as I can remember. I mean, I wasn’t depressed to the point of not being able to get out of bed all the time, but it was always there in the back of my mind. This unmistakable sadness, almost like a weight I could barely carry. It wasn’t hard to hide it really, because around you it always hurt a little less. I could focus on other things because you were almost like an anchor, something keeping me in one place, grounding me, reminding me that I mattered. When you weren’t around, Dad usually was, and he was usually preoccupied with cases or something.”

Dean nodded, a small gesture to let Sam know he was listening. Sam took a deep breath and continued. “As for self-harming, well, that started around the time you and Dad started hunting together. I was always so worried about you, De. Always worried you were going to get hurt, killed, or worse. I was alone a lot, and I don’t blame you even one bit for it because you were just doing your job. You were making Dad proud and you made me proud too. But being alone gave me too much time to think, you know? And once I got started, I couldn’t get my mind to shut off. The only way to calm myself was to take control of the only thing I knew I had control of. Myself. 

“That first time started as a small, shallow mark on my upper thigh, something easily hidden from you and Dad. No big deal. That one shallow mark gave me the peace of mind I needed to sleep for the first time in days.”

“Jesus, Sam. I wish I would have known.” Dean mentioned quickly before motioning for Sam to continue. 

“It gradually got a little deeper, a few more, and it was always on a part of myself easily hidden, because I was scared of what you or Dad would do if you found out. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I stopped when I left for Stanford. 

“Once I got there, I had no privacy whatsoever. The first year I stayed in a dorm with a roommate who studied as much, if not more, than I did. We had shared bathrooms and I couldn’t get away. And thanks to a post on the library bulletin, I was able to find a support group of people who dealt with and had overcome the same things I had been dealing with. I was able to realize that I wasn’t alone. 

“Losing Jessica and having to leave Palo Alto was a challenge, sure, but I didn’t feel the pull to injure myself like I had before. I was with you the entire time, on the road like old times. And it stayed like that until the car accident. When you were in the hospital and I thought you were dead, well, that was the first time I truly entertained the thought of self-harming again. But I wouldn’t let myself. Because I knew you were coming back. I didn’t want to give up hope and I felt like if I gave in to that temptation, I would be.”

“And you held on to that hope even after I went to Hell, huh?” Dean asked. Sam nodded. 

“So you haven’t hurt yourself since before you left for Stanford?” Again, Sam nodded.

“I’m proud of you, Sammy. So fuckin’ proud.” Dean didn’t even give Sam enough time to process what he had said before he was dragging Sam into an incredibly tight, bone crushing hug. It took Sam’s mind a minute to catch up and wrap his arms around his brother just as tight. They stayed wrapped in each other like that for several minutes, breathing one another in.   
Eventually they broke apart with Sam looking expectantly at Dean, waiting for another question. Dean thought about everything Sam had said so far, and wanted to save the obvious elephant in the room for last, so he asked about Ruby. About the blood. 

Sam answered the best he could. “It was like a high, knowing I had all this power. Feeling like I could actually be the one to save you, you know? Ruby made me feel important again, which I hadn’t felt with anyone except you really, maybe Jess. I suppose I was important to her but in a different way. She wanted me because she needed me to fulfill her evil master plan or whatever.”

“Makes sense,” is all Dean really had to respond with so they sat in loaded silence for a few moments until he decided to man up and get it over with. “So, uh, are you still, uh, in love… with me?”

“Wow, eloquent, Dean,” Sam said causing both Winchesters to laugh despite themselves. Once they both caught their breath and quieted, Sam answered. “The short answer is yes. No amount of distance I had ever put between us lessened that at all. I don’t want to make things weird, or have you worry, or lose you.”

Dean held a hand up, stopping Sam from spiraling into a lecture he didn’t need to hear. “Sam, it’s okay. Not weird, especially given the way we grew up. We were raised to love and care for one another more than any other person or thing in the universe, right?”

“Right…” Sam answered, the end of the word trailing off like he was waiting for further explanation from his brother.

It was Dean’s turn to take a deep, steeling breath and lay all his cards out on the table. “Sam, I haven't told you everything either. Matter of fact, I haven't told anyone much of anything when it comes to what goes on inside my head, and most people would be glad for it. But this? I'm not gonna let you sit here and freak out if you've got no reason to. I uh… Sam, I… Oh, fuck it.” 

Before Sam could really process what was happening, Dean lunged forward covering Sam’s lips with his own. Sam let out a muffled sound of surprise which caused Dean to smile, breaking the not-quite-kiss. 

“I-I don’t understand. Are you not telling me what I think you’re not telling me? Because this is all very confusing and I’m hanging on by a thread here and you better not be fucking messing with me or I’ll have to…” Again, Sam’s rant was cut off with a mouth full of Dean. 

This time, however, Sam was coherent enough to reciprocate. His hands flew up to grasp at Dean’s jacket pulling him closer. He broke the kiss once more to make sure Dean knew what he was doing, that he wasn’t suffering some kind of weird sick curse or something. 

Dean laughed at his brother’s concern and went back in for more. “I’ve always wanted this, Sam,” rushed out between kisses. “There’s only ever been you,” between another. And as they managed to maneuver their bodies closer still, and their hands began to wander, Dean looked Sam directly in the eye so that he would understand the gravity of what he was about to ask. 

“I want you to show me, Sammy.” The younger Winchester looked at Dean with a confusion in his eyes, not quite understanding what was being asked. “Your scars. Show me, please. I need to see them.”  
They stared at one another for a beat or two before Sam responded. “Yes. I’ll show you. Find us a room and I’ll show you.”

The boys separated slightly but remained close enough to touch for the remainder of the drive to the Edge-O-Town Motel. It took them about twenty minutes to find any kind of civilization, and they settled on the first motel they found. 

Once they were checked in, unloaded, and the doors and windows had their typical salt line under them, the boys finally turned to look at one another. Sam looked a little nervous, but not nervous enough not to go through with it. Dean smiled, once more letting the pride he had for Sam shine through. His brother, his Sammy, was the strongest person he knew.

Dean walked cautiously toward Sam. When he reached his brother, he closed his eyes and leaned in for a quick, chaste kiss before trailing his hands down to the button on Sam’s well-worn jeans. “May I?” 

Sam nodded, a quick shiver running through him at the thought of sharing this with Dean. He wasn’t happy with his scars, but he wasn’t ashamed of them either. He learned long ago that they don’t define him, they don’t make him who he is today. Still, having Dean that close, seeing something Sam had kept hidden from him for so long was a little nerve wracking.

Sam tried staying as still as possible while his brother unbuttoned, unzipped, and slowly slid his jeans to the ground. Dean looked to Sam for further permission and a little guidance as he had no idea where exactly to look, and it’s possible he was a little scared of what he’d see when he did find them. 

“‘S okay, De,” Sam said as he began removing his grey boxer briefs. He stopped before he revealed anything, though, thinking to ask, “Is this okay?” With Dean’s nodded approval, Sam removed his underwear which left himself bare from the waist down. 

He grabbed Dean’s hand and moved it over to a small cluster of scars. He ran Dean’s fingertips across the raised skin there and over to the next cluster. There was no rhyme or reason to the pattern itself, just a bunch of various sized lines carved into his skin. Some looked as though they were deeper than others, and Dean felt the need to touch them all. Sam eventually let Dean’s hand go so that it could wander freely while Sam relaxed into the touch. 

Dean dropped to his knees at one point so that he was eye level with the worst of them. He brought his face towards Sam’s legs and nuzzled, brushing his lips across whichever ones he could get to. He kissed and licked and loved every inch of the evidence of Sam’s suffering, hoping to convey the message that Sam didn’t have to suffer alone ever again. 

Sam grasped Dean’s arms and tugged slightly. Dean stood and Sam stared. His brother’s defenses were down. His emotions were all over his face and as big as this was for Sam, he knew it was big for Dean too. Sam leaned into Dean and covered his brother’s mouth with his own. He let his hands wander across Dean’s torso, down to the hem of his thin, old t-shirt. He pulled away just long enough to slide it up and off his brother leaving Sam in his shirt and Dean in his jeans. 

They continued leisurely undressing one another, clearly in no rush. They just needed to enjoy this thing neither of them thought they’d ever get to have with the other. Their clothes were left as a trail leading to the bed where they lie naked next to one another just letting themselves get lost in the feeling, touching from head to toe. 

It wasn’t about sex, not really. It was about them. The love they shared for each other, the pain they had each felt, Sam’s suffering, and Dean’s guilt. It was about forgiveness. It was about knowing they’d never feel alone again. It was about trust. About two boys who were always taught to love each other more than anything else in the entire universe.


End file.
